


Our Future is a Shipping Container

by aflawedfashion



Category: Defiance (TV)
Genre: Family, Gen, Pre-Series, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9143182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aflawedfashion/pseuds/aflawedfashion
Summary: Kenya Rosewater arrives in the town of Defiance with her big sister and hopes of starting over.





	

The night after Kenya Rosewater first arrived in the newly established town of Defiance, she slipped out of the overpriced, decrepit hotel room where her sister was already fast asleep and found herself walking wide-eyed into the half-constructed bar in the NeedWant. On the surface it looked like nothing, but the atmosphere buzzed with an intoxicating excitement that put a grin on Kenya’s face.

She instantly knew that she belonged in the NeedWant. It was a place of new beginnings, crowded with people lured to town by the promise of finally starting over, of putting the war behind them. Admittedly, it looked like a dump on the outside, but it was the people inside who drank and talked with hope written on their faces who mattered. These people were emotionally and physically scarred by the war, and the NeedWant didn’t look like anything special, but everything and everyone in Defiance had the potential to be amazing. They just needed a little help and a little love.

Tossing her last crumpled bit of money on the counter to order a drink, Kenya lost herself in her thoughts, picturing the walls in different colors, trying to think of what would transform it into an establishment that lived up to its potential. 

Kenya didn't have much experience with design or decorating, but she had an eye for what worked. While riding into Defiance, she fantasized about the new life she might create for herself. The NeedWant could be her fresh start. She could offer her services to the owner, try to convince them to take a chance on her. 

But her future career would have to be a discussion for another day. An hour later, she was doing what she did best. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stood behind the NeedWant with one hand pressed against the wall and the other up the dress of a gorgeous Casti woman whose family owned an apartment she promised to happily rent to Kenya, for a price.

“You could teach my husband a thing or two,” the woman said, stroking Kenya's cheek as she leaned against the wall, catching her breath. “But you must know that what you charge for this doesn’t cover a whole month’s rent.”

Kenya smiled deviously, gathering the bottom of the woman’s skirt in one hand, her fingers running up her pale thigh with the other. “Then I guess we’ll just have to do it again, and again until I’ve earned my stay,” Kenya whispered, pressing their bodies together as the woman bit her lip.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” The woman’s eyes focused on Kenya’s mouth as she tilted her head to kiss her.

The next morning, Kenya could hardly contain her pride as she practically skipped into Amanda's hotel room like an excited puppy. Riding a high from a night of good, lucrative sex, she wanted nothing more than to show Amanda their new home.

But Amanda grumbled incoherently and hid her face under the covers as Kenya pulled the curtains open, hoping some of her enthusiasm would rub off on her sister. It wasn't working, but Kenya ignored her sister’s protests until she finally decided she would have to drag Amanda out of bed. And so she did. With a playful grin, she tossed Amanda's bag into her arms and dragged her grumpy, half-asleep sister across town, hardly listening as she mumbled the whole way about the importance of sleep.

“I hope you love it,” Kenya said as she pushed her key into the lock. “Ok, I know you well enough to know you won't love it, but I hope you like it.”

“This is a shipping container,” Amanda said, dropping her bag to the floor with a thud that echoed off the cold metal walls.

“Yes, it is.” Kenya’s heart dropped as she watched Amanda walk in a slow circle, her face flat while she judged her surroundings. Watching her sister’s eyes run over every inch of the room, Kenya became aware of every rust stain, every speck of dirt, every flaw.

Kenya knew there wasn’t anything particularly impressive about a single room furnished with nothing more than a scuffed leather chair left behind by the previous inhabitant, but she was proud of it. She was proud that she had walked into an unfamiliar town with no friends and an empty wallet only to wake up the next morning in the arms of a high paying client who handed her the keys to the first apartment she could ever call her own, the first apartment she would live in that Amanda didn't find and pay for. 

She wanted nothing more than to show Amanda that she could take care of herself, that she could take care of both of them. For too long Amanda had to carry the responsibility of both their lives entirely on her shoulders, but not anymore. Kenya was finally responsible enough to help. This apartment was supposed to be proof of that.

And deep down, Kenya wanted a home to commit to, to signify that they were done with being homeless travelers. Neither of them were meant for a life in the badlands, and with this simple shipping container, they were finally free from that life, free from hotel rooms they couldn’t afford, free from camping outside when they ran out of money before they could find a way to pay for both food and shelter.

“We’re going to live in a shipping container?” Amanda finally asked, and Kenya folded her arms, trying her best not to become overly defensive. She loved her sister more than she knew how to describe, but sometimes she could be insufferable. 

“Amanda,” Kenya said calmly, tilting her head to the side, “we moved to a mining town in the middle of the badlands with no money and no jobs. We’re lucky to even have this.” 

Amanda sighed, her eyes dropping to the floor. “I know. It’s just…” Amanda's eyes darted around the room as she gathered her words. “Coming to Defiance was supposed to be a new start. It was supposed to be better.”

“It’s better than the badlands, and one day it will be better than our lives in New York. We’re just not there yet.”

“I know,” Amanda said, sounding almost defeated as she finally met Kenya's gaze. “I know.”

“Hey, it's ok.” Kenya reached out to touch Amanda's arm, but her sister instinctively pulled away. Kenya hated that her sister, the person she loved more than anyone in this world, hid her feelings from her, refusing to admit that she was struggling until something like a tiny apartment finally forced her emotions to the surface. 

“Don’t,” Amanda said, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’m fine. It’s just that we've been traveling for so long to get here, but you’re right. You’re being frustratingly logical right now.” Amanda shook her head, trying hide the glimmering tears in her eyes behind a forced smile. “Why do you put up with me?”

“Because you’re my sister and I have to.” Kenya scrunched her face, trying to make Amanda feel better. “And maybe because I love you.”

Amanda's eyes softened, transforming her smile into a genuine display of love. “I love you too.”

“And don’t worry,” Kenya said, taking Amanda’s hands in her own. This time Amanda didn't pull away. "We’re going to create amazing lives here, lives that will be so much better than what we had in New York. There’s nothing holding us back now. No Connor. No Earth Republic. Just us. We’re free to be whoever we want.” 

Amanda squeezed Kenya’s hands. “Thank you,” she said, leading Kenya to the chair and pulling her onto her lap. 

“You’re welcome.” Kenya wrapped her arms around her sister, squeezing her tightly. 

Kenya rested her head on Amanda’s shoulder as Amanda took another look around the apartment. “This really isn’t so bad, but are we going to have to install bunk beds? There’s not a lot of space.”

Kenya's face lit up, and she nearly jumped out of the chair with excitement. “I always wanted bunkbeds!”

“No, absolutely not.” Amanda shook her head vigorously. “That was not a serious suggestion.”

“But wouldn't it be fun!”

“No, it wouldn't!” Amanda said through a horrified laugh. “Remind me never to make a joke in front of you again.”

“Fine,” Kenya pouted. “But can we at least get matching bed spreads?”

Amanda grinned. “Sure.”

“Thank you.” Kenya wrapped one arm around Amanda’s shoulder, brushing her long blonde hair out of her face with the other. “We’re home.”

“I like the sound of that,” Amanda said. “Home,” she repeated. “And now that we're home, we can find real jobs, and you can stop… doing what you do to make money. I know what you must have done to rent this place.” 

“Prostitution isn't a dirty word, Amanda. You can say it.”

“You don't have to be a prostitute anymore.” Amanda forced the word out of her mouth for Kenya's sake. It was an argument they had fought many times, but even though Amanda knew it was their best way of making money, she never could bring herself to do it, and Kenya never wanted her to do something she didn't want to. But what Amanda never could understand was that Kenya loved having the power to make money anywhere she went and, if she were lucky, have some fun too. She wasn't forcing herself to do it because she had no other choice.

“Maybe I don't want to stop,” Kenya said, absentmindedly braiding Amanda’s hair, already picturing a legitimate business, a place where she would never have sex against the back wall of a bar unless it was what a client wanted, and then she would charge extra. “With all those miners in this town, I could make a fortune. I could support you while you go after your dreams. If it weren't for this chupping war, you would have gone to school for more years than I can bare to imagine, and you'd be on your way to being the first female president.”

“I'd like to think if the United States still existed, it would have had a female president before now.”

“Maybe.” Kenya said. "But I'm serious. Get back into politics even if you have to be an unpaid intern and work your way up. I will enjoy myself and get paid for it while you torture yourself and don’t get paid.”

Amanda let out a laugh. “I’m getting too old to be an unpaid intern. That's for kids with rich parents and besides, what kind of politics could I get into here?”

“Someone has to run this town,” Kenya said. “And the Earth Republic has no power here, which means the people in charge actually have control over what happens with their own town. You have more potential here than you ever did in New York. No matter how high you would have risen in New York, you’d always be stuck doing whatever the Earth Republic told you to do, but not here.”

A faint, dreamy smile crept across Amanda’s face as she looked straight ahead, lost in her thoughts.

“This place represents our future,” Kenya continued.

Amanda narrowed her eyes as she turned her head to face Kenya. “Our future is a shipping container? Cold, hard, and rusting?” 

“Shut up,” Kenya said, gently punching Amanda’s shoulder. “I'm an adult now. Will you ever stop giving me a hard time like I’m still a kid?”

“Not if you still want bunkbeds,” Amanda teased before growing somewhat serious. “But no matter what, you will always be my baby sister.” Amanda snuggled Kenya closer to her, holding her as if her life depended on it. “I just want you to have everything you deserve, and you deserve so more than a shipping container.”

“One day I’ll have it. I promise you that.” 

“I know you will.”   
  



End file.
